


Under the Weather and On Top of the World

by Airplanesandcookies (Mosgirllee)



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Epikegster Happens Differently (Check Please!), Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jack has a head cold, M/M, Romantically taking care of each other, Sickfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22554010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mosgirllee/pseuds/Airplanesandcookies
Summary: As soon as the buzzer blared, marking the end of the last game of the semester, Jack’s imagined and dubitable control on his immune system fell apart.The Walking Crud had finally caught up with him.Jack has a head cold.  Bitty keeps him company as they ditch Epikegster together.
Relationships: Eric "Bitty" Bittle/Jack Zimmermann
Comments: 29
Kudos: 314





	Under the Weather and On Top of the World

**Author's Note:**

> I have been battling a sinus infection for the past few days and just wanted to write some good feel good fluff. 
> 
> Also, I also get to mark off a box from my Zimbits Bingo Card. This counts for Epikegster Divergence and Sick Fic. These squares are not even close to one another.

As soon as the buzzer blared, marking the end of the last game of the semester, Jack’s imagined and dubitable control on his immune system fell apart. 

The Walking Crud had finally caught up with him. 

A loud whoop to his left was his only warning before Bittle barreled into him, spinning him with a huge grin plastered on his face.“Jack!That slap shot was incredible!”

Jack pulled him in closer for a hug that lingered for a moment.He patted him hard on the back.“Good fucking game, Bits.” 

Bittle brightened and skated quickly off towards the boards while the rest of the team tried to converge on him.Somehow it became tradition that Holster and Ransom had to lift him off the ice for a celly.Bittle’s never agreed to such shenanigans and always made the guys work to catch him.

Jack decided not to join in that endeavor today and quietly made his way to the locker room. 

It was only a matter of time.Everyone on the team had caught it by now.Ransom had a spreadsheet predicting when everyone would get the infamous cold that plagued the campus.Freshmen usually are hit within the first month.Hell, even Dex was taken out the very first week of school and that was a guy who knew the value of washing his hands.

It wasn’t that Jack expected to completely avoid it.This was his senior year - didn’t that afford him some immunity? 

Ugh, he felt terrible. 

His head hurt and the locker room lights were too bright. 

Holster and Shitty were way too loud.

And he couldn’t smell anything through his runny nose - which honestly, counted in the positive column.

It took a second for him to register Bittle’s quiet voice next to him.“Jack, you okay?”

“I’m good - I’ve been bitten by the Crud.” Jack said, shaking off his gloves and pulling his sweater up and over his pads.

His arms were still trapped in the sweater when he felt Bitty’s hand on his forehead, pushing his sweaty hair out of his eyes.“Oh, Jack…you are really warm.”

“I just played three periods.”

Bitty raised a skeptical eyebrow before reaching forward and massaging the area beneath his ears and above his neck. 

“My momma always used to check to see if my lymph nodes were swollen.I think yours definitely are.”

Bitty’s hands were cold and dry, and Jack’s shoulders dropped along with his eyelids.He finally dragged his eyes open, and Bittle was still there, large liquid brown eyes lined with those ridiculously long honey-brown eyelashes that dusted the top of his cheeks.He face still a ruddy red and his hair was flat against his head.

“You sure you want to get this close?I know I smell.” Jack said to the air between them.

“Well I also played three periods.I’m just happy you can’t smell me, can you?” Bitty replied, lips lifted in a smile. 

“EPIKEGSTER STARTS IN T-MINUS 1 HOUR!GET YOUR ASSES OUT OF YOUR GEAR AND THEN BACK INTO GEAR.”Holster bellowed from his stall. 

“That was 100% clear.” Ransom yelled back.

Jack groaned.

“Well, that’s not gonna work at all, is it?” Bittle asked himself.“What are you going to do?I think Holster found the bullhorn.According to Swallow’s twitter feed, Epikegster is expected to be the rowdiest party this year.”

Jack finished pulling his sweater up and stood to unhook his pads.“It’ll be fine.It’s just a little head cold, eh. I’ll pop a few Advils and just hang out in my room with some earplugs.”

Bittle shook his head and immediately pulled back out his phone and started rapidly typing.Jack watched Bittle’s fingers fly across the screen, his profile in his stall, as he began to kick off the layers of gear while not even pausing in this typing.Jack would have teased him, but he had to use more muscles that he had in his legs to drag himself to the showers. 

It would be weird to ask Bittle to wash his hair.Shitty would do it though.It was also weird to stand in the middle of the shower room, naked, ranking who on the team would wash your hair.(In order though - Shitty, Bittle, Chowder, Ransom, Nursey, Dex, and then Holster.Holster was still holding onto a grudge about wool and sheep empires.)

His shower took three times as long for him to get half as clean but the walk home to the House wasn’t too bad.The cold air was brisk and made his sinuses feel clearer than they really were.But that only lasted until he was hit with the humid air from the Haus and the pounding base of stereo system, which rattle the rickety table it rested on. 

Jack staggered through the wall of sound and then pushing and swimming through a crowd of his teammates as he made his way to the stairs and to his room. 

He flopped belly first with shoes still on, onto his bed and pulled a pillow over his ears.Bittle was right, this was the last place he needed to be tonight.He just had to survive his head cold until tomorrow morning, when he would catch his AM flight to Montreal.

He had been looking forward to Epikegster this year.He didn’t party often, mostly just hiding out and fueling the rumors that he was entertaining puck bunnies in his room.Mostly he was either reading with his headphones on or studying. But today, he wanted to see Bittle lifted and celebrated.He had worked so hard this semester to re-earn his spot on his line. 

Bittle would have to do a keg stand for his two beautiful assists and that sick little wrister he pulled in the first period.No one even saw him get to the puck until the horn sounded the goal.It was like a magic trick.Bittle was magic. 

***

The mattress was slightly musty after years of supporting funky jocks and the springs squeaked more than he would have liked.At the moment though, the bed cradled Jack perfectly as sleep closed in around the edges of his vision.Jack didn’t know how long it took for him to hear the knocking, but when he finally recognized that someone was not only at his door, but inside it as well, Bittle was quietly sneaking back out.

“Bittle?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to wake you up, I just brought you some soup and tea.” He said, pointing towards the desk.Set on top of a stolen cafeteria tray, was a bowl of steaming soup, a thermos of tea, a brown paper bag, folded over with bow stapled onto it, and a mini apple pie.

“Why?” was the only thing that Jack could articulate.

Bittle sniffed.“Feed a cold, starve a fever? Well, in our house we feed everything. Fever, flu, sprained ankle.”

Jack got up to get a better look at his dinner.He still couldn’t smell it exactly, the congestion and swelling in his sinuses still making that impossible, but the steam felt good and it looked amazing. 

“How did you get it up the stairs without anyone following you?” Jack asked as he sat down and began to eat.He learned a while ago that Bittle enjoyed when people ate his food in front of him, you were expected to dig in.

“Now, that was a challenge.I swear, even with the pizzas, foot long grinders. and five full pies down there, those boys smell food and I have to worry someone might take a bite out of me.”

Jack bit down on a chirp and instead took a large noisy sip of soup.Now that it was in his mouth, he could tell how well it was seasoned and how full the chicken stock was. 

“When did you make chicken soup?”

“I am always prepared, Mr. Zimmermann.I knew this cold would get to everyone.I made vats of chicken stock back in September.That was the easy part.It was harder getting a tea bag.”

“Tub juice?”

“Shitty claims the antioxidants in the tea allows for a higher ABV with less hangovers.”

Bittle shrugged conveying how much he thought that was BS too. 

"This is amazing, as always.”

Bittle cleared his throat.Even though everyone loved his cooking and baking, Bittle still always looked delighted and bashful when he was complimented.

“How are you feeling?I thought you might be asleep.” Bittle asked, gingerly sitting on Jack’s bed.Bittle hovered a moment, making eye contact with Jack, asking permission before sitting completely.Jack nodded at the bed.Bittle was always welcome in his room.He always wore pants, but a few times he had those really distracting blue shorts on, but even that was better than Shitty’s birthday suit. 

“There is no sleeping in this.But I’m okay - not really tired, but not in the mood to go and party.”

Bittle pulled up a few pieces of pile that was on Jack’s bedspread fas Jack reached for the paper bag.Jack pulled out a new container of Advil cold and cough, some vitamin C and Zinc tablets, lip balm, hand sanitizer, and vicks vapor rub and a small bottle of liquor?”

“Jack Daniels?”

Bitty shrugged.Look, I can’t get my hands on what my Moo Maw normally recommends for a head cold, I had to work with what I had, but she swears by a hot drink with a slug of something before bed.She said it helps you sleep.I don’t even know if it’s true, but it can’t hurt to try, right?”

Words failed him as Jack held the mini of whiskey.He didn’t expect Bittle to even notice he was under the weather, let alone make him a get well kit. 

There is never a very long silence with Bittle.“I have an idea, if you want to break out of here for a few hours until the party starts to wind down.”

“It’ll never wind down.It’s Epikegster.”

Bittle flourished his phone with a sunny and smug smile.

“I found a few things. Annie’s is open late tonight, then there is a silent movie double feature at the Samwell Theatre, and Faber has open skate until 11pm- we can probably hang out in the lounge afterwards.Lardo told me I could borrow her keys for exactly…” Bittle pauses and looks at the timer function on his phone, “8 hours and 13 minutes.The keys need to be back in her hands by 4am.”

“Just in time for me to borrow them for 5:00am checking practice.”

Bittle gasped.“You wouldn’t!”

Jack finished the last slurp of soup with a quirk of his lips.He felt so much better than he did a few minutes before.He eyed the hand pie with interest before wrapping it back up in the wax paper Bittle brought it up in and grabbing the thermos, the hand sanitizer, and his keys.

“Sounds like a plan.And better than staying here glaring at my walls.You want to come with?”

Bittle jumped up and ran across the hall to his room.He came back dressed in his warm parka, beanie, and a neck gaiter.

“Let’s go.” He said as he tossed the gaiter to Jack.“I just washed that and I won’t need it in Georgia- but you can use it to cover your mouth, neck and ears. 

Jack heart flipped in his chest at the sight of Bittle all bundled up. 

“Thanks.Are you sure you want to hang out with your sick grumpy teammate.”

“Oui, Mon Capitaine Grumpy.”

Jack still hesitated.“I don’t want you to get my cold.”

Bittle pulled his coat’s zipper up even though it could get no higher, “You think downstairs is more hygienic? I’ll take my chances with you.”

***

Bittle chattered the whole way to the movie theatre.A bored box office attendant rung them up, Jack pulling his credit card out and paying before Bittle could pull his mittens off with his teeth.

“This was going to be my treat, Jack.” Bittle said as he plucks a napkin from the concession stand and silently hands it to Jack. 

“You made dinner and dessert, this is MY treat.” Jack said, happier than he had ever been with snot frequently sliding down his nose.He was going to have to wash Bitty’s neck scarf or buy him a new one.He made a mental note to add one to his shopping list.

They settled down in the bucket theatre seats - the room comfortable and blissfully quiet.Only a whispered conversations and quiet chewing of popcorn the only sounds until an organist began to play besides the stage.

“Oh, no, I thought that this would be even quieter.”Bittle whispered apologetically into his jacket. 

“Kind of a misnomer, yeah?” Jack reached out a hand and patted Bitty on the knee.“This is still so much quieter that Holster, that I can’t even compare the two.”

“Lord, I feel like I can hear him even in here.”

Jack leans over and whispers, his voice husky from the cold, “Wait, I think I can hear him too.‘Who wants to be defeated in Beer Pong’!”

Bittle’s laugh rang out.And then he sneezed. 

***

“OMG!Jack!I had no idea Flapper Movies were an entire genre!”Bittle exclaimed, almost walking into a customer leaving Annie’s.“I mean, I just didn’t anticipate the scandal that bare knees would cause.”

Jack paused walking, to discretely pull his cowl to down blow his nose, but he still made a loud honk which made Bittle bark a startled laugh beside him.

He’s still stuffy, head spinning a bit, but he felt light and the only thing that could make it better would be a refill of hot tea and a recap of Bittle’s movie commentary.

The movie had been delightful, even if they decided not to stay for the second half for fear that Jack’s honking would distract others from the movie.Watching a movie with Bittle meant being pulled into his personal space as he whispered observations and shared his giggles with soft pats along his arm. 

Arriving at Annie’s, Bittle, anticipating Jack, had pulled off his mittens before getting to the door and rushed ahead to order a tea latte and one peppermint tea with as much honey as they could spare.He carried a tray, beaming triumphantly over to their usual table. 

They had a usual table.Somehow in the all too swift weeks of the semester, between practice, and studying and Jack talking to agents and scouts, and Bittle bribing teachers with pies, and early morning checking practice and mandatory credit hours, they had carved out this little space, a routine and rest in the middle of the chaos with just the two of them. 

Watching Bittle once again un-bundle himself, Jack is hit with yet another wave of affection, a tide of fondness. 

“Jack, you okay, you look a little green?”

Jack doesn’t feel green.He feels pretty great here with Bittle all to himself.But he doesn’t know what his face is doing.

“I’m glad I’m sitting down.”

The door to Annie’s keeps dinging as folks wander in for a quick warm up and phone charge before trekking back out to look for last minute parties before the semester finally closes with a slam tomorrow afternoon. 

“Over your left shoulder, is A.B. Bedford, the running back for Samwell.”

Bittle glances over his shoulder and gives a small wave and smile which is quickly returned by the R.B. before he freezes in his tracks, eyebrows going up slowly.He slowly backed away and walked out the door. 

“What was that?It looks like he suddenly saw a wolf behind me.”Bittle asked turning back to Jack.His eyes widened as he quickly looked Jack up and down. 

Jack’s lips quivered with pride or chills.Later, he’ll ask Bittle to check to see if he has a fever.He doesn’t think so, but it wouldn’t hurt.

“What big eyes you have Mr. Zimmermann.”

Jack sipped his overly sweetened tea.“The better to see you with, Bittle.”

Bitty cleared his throat, eyes suddenly glued to his paper cup.“So is there a reason you suddenly look like you are ready to throw gloves?”

Jack was glad he had a simple answer.“He is the reason there’s a hole in Shitty’s door.”

“What!”Bittle pulled his tea closer to him as he leaned over the table, eyes wide with curiosity and cheeks still ruddy from the cold.“Start from the beginning.”

“So, two years ago, the football teams makes a big show about crashing one of our parties.”Jack begins.He tells Bittle about the extra potent tub juice and how things got a little out of hand.“I mean, I don’t want to fight, but there I was, holding Shitty back, there’s a hole in the door, and I have A.B. staring at me with five or six of the defensive line, what was I supposed to do?So, I drop Shitty, and grab the fire extinguisher.I don’t know why that worked.But it cooled everyone’s jets.”

Bittle looked impressed, color still high on his cheeks.“Oh wow.But that must of been so scary.”

“Eh, I’ve stared down worse.But afterwards, Bedford and the football team give the Haus a wide perimeter.”

Bittle sits back pulling their little bubble back outward.“And here I thought he was such a polite boy.He wished me luck the other day in the cafeteria for today’s game - I didn’t even think he knewI played hockey.”

“Bittle, everyone knows you play hockey.You moved up multiple lines, even after suffering a concussion last season.You’re so important.…To us.” 

The words, “To me” fought for a place in that sentence.And even though the words were unsaid, Bittle looked like he heard them anyway.

***

Samwell is a beautiful campus.Tree lined cobbled stones streets, and old buildings and lampposts already covered in holiday lights and garland, but it’s the quiet evening, as the students make their way home and the campus shuts down, practically deserted with a flurry of snowflakes dancing in the night breeze. 

Jack walked Bittle through the campus and around the pond to get to Faber.It’s a long way, but the ambient light from the moon and the soft crunch of the snow under his feet.Only his sneezes ruin the utter quiet.

Bittle doesn’t seem to mind.

In fact, Bittle has discretely blew his nose a few times into a cloth handkerchief that he tucked back into his pocket.

“You’re not getting sick, are you?” Jack asked, concerned and guilty.

Bitty waved off Jack’s question.“Oh hon.I’ve been fighting off the Crud all semester.I just hope you didn’t get it from me.”

They continued their walk, side by side, feet crunching the newly fallen snow.

“Why is it always so quiet in the snow?I mean, if I strain, I think I can still hear Epikegster a few streets over.”

Jack doesn’t hear it as much as he thinks he can imagine the street vibrating a bit.“I read that the snow acts as a sound dampener because of its shape of snowflakes.”

“It makes me want to whisper secrets.No one would hear us.”

Jack sniffed.It’s not attractive, he knows that and maybe tomorrow, he’ll worry about what his nose looks like, red and raw from blowing it on the paper napkins that he grabbed from the movie theatre.He’ll worry about his red rimmed eyes and pale pallor of his cheeks. 

“I’m so sorry, Bits.I’m a mess and you are probably missing the best party of the year.”

Quickly, and so smooth, Bittle slipped his mittened hand through the space between Jack’s arm and body and onto his bicep.He doesn’t break a stride.

“This is the only place I want to be.”

***

The ice at Faber was full of students all taking advantage of the Open Skate for the next hour now that the burden of finals and papers was over. 

Jack and Bittle walked past the security guard on duty with a nod and a Happy Holidays before heading into the private student hockey lounge. 

Bittle unlocked the door and they both collapsed on a couch.Jack puts his arm over the back, and Bittle fits in so nicely under his arm, wiggling in as he pulls out his phone. 

“Whoa, Jack!You won’t believe this!According to the Swallow, Kent Parson just showed up at the Haus.”

Jack’s body goes rigid.There is no way for Bittle not to notice, since they are touching from shoulder to hip.He swallows hard once, and then again.His throat is burning and his mouth is cotton.He can only blame some of his symptoms on his cold. 

“Fuck.”

Bittle doesn’t move, but he must, because his phone is now on the table in coffee table in front of him.He doesn’t push or say anything at all.But he becomes somehow heavier, as he leans against Jack.It’s grounding.

“He does that sometimes.” It’s all that Jack wanted say about it.

“I heard you were friends in the Q?” Bittle stated.Instead of asking, it’s an opening for a conversation.An invitation to confide, vent, or ignore.Jack felt grumpy and miserable and whiny.He doesn’t want to watch his words.But he doesn’t want to push Bittle out.Bittle who has been so kind and open today.He would listen as Jack said what he wanted and what he meant and the answer will remain between him, Bittle and the snow.

“We were something.I’m not sure if I could really call it friendship near the end.”Jack shifted uncomfortably in his seat.He remembers a stress exercise where he tries to tighten his muscles from his head to toes, and relaxing them in that order. “We owe each other a lot of apologies.I just don’t want to be the first one to say sorry.”

“Hmmm.”

“I don’t know why he decided to visit today.Maybe trying to see what team I planning on.”

“Maybe he missed you?”

Jack huffed.Maybe.But honestly, Jack would rather that Kent didn’t miss him.It would be easier for the both of them.Just because someone is your first love, doesn’t mean they are meant to be your only love.Loving Kent meant constantly batting against his insecurities, especially when things got tough.No.That relationship could only float when there was no conflict.Any competition or comparison rocked that boat.And they were both competitive me.And even if Jack indulged some far flung daydream of playing for the Aces, that relationship wasn’t strong enough to handle the stress of the media, trade talks, stats…they would be always doomed. 

Jack tried breathing, in for a count of four and out.Bittle unconsciously or consciously mirrored his breath pattern, his chest rising and falling in time with Jack.That is what broke though the anger of Kent invading his space at Samwell.And it was so painfully clear - that this here, right now, was love.

He was in love with BIts. 

On his last breath, he coughed into his elbow and Bits jumped up fill a water cup from the cooler near the door. 

Yep, he loved Bittle. 

Even if he only had to weigh this one day - he practiced by his side, played on his left, celebrated their win, comforted him when he was gross and grey in the face, and spent the evening taking Jack on his perfect date.

Who even knew for how long, Jack had found his place in that orbit.He wanted to love Bittle, and make pies, and listen to him talk about any and everything.He wanted to continue growing in his presence, like a sapling growing into a tree under the sun. 

He pulled out the hand pie from his hoodie pocket.He made him dessert too.

“I don’t deserve you.”Jack said to the pie.

Bittle stared at him, confused.“The pie?I’m quite sure you do?”

That wasn’t clear.So Jack repeated himself while looking Bittle in the face.“I don’t deserve you, Bits.”

Bittle stepped back and looked around the room.When he turned back, his eyes were magnified by the moisture in his eyes. “I’m really confused right now.”

Jack wasn’t.But he also recognized that he probably shouldn’t go head first into this, even if the sirens are blaring, the fans are screaming in the stands, and the ref is holding the puck over the line in his head.

“Jack, are you okay?I can take you back to the Haus or, I don’t know, the hospital?”

Bits runs his hand over Jack’s forehead again, and then checks his own, and Jack used that moment to pull him closer, into the circle of his arms and rests his head on Bitty’s sternum. 

Bitty didn’t know what to do with his hands.He fluttered a bit before putting them on Jack’s shoulders.

“I don’t want to go anywhere.I like you, Bits.So much.”

“…like a really good friend?”

Jack thumped his head against Bitty’s solid chest.“No, more than that.”

Jack can feel Bitty’s heartbeat pounding in his chest.

“…I think I need to sit.”

Bitty plopped down on the coffee table and stared at Jack.His eyes took up half of his face.

“You like me?Like…” He paused, held up the hand he felt his brow with, “Romantically?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe I’m the one that needs to go lay down.”

Jack’s heart beat sounded in his ears.He can’t tell is Bitty is happy or horrified by the revelation.I mean, in hindsight, he could have waited until he didn’t look half dead.Or maybe waited until he hadn’t had a small freak-out about his ex. 

He didn’t have to wait long. 

“I’m not convinced that this isn’t a weird fever dream, but we are going to talk about this.” Bittle says, cradling Jack’s head in his cool hands.“But consider this a place-holder until you feel better.”

He gently kisses Jack, so carefully on the forehead.His lips, moisturized and smooth.Jack feels it all the way to his toes.

“I like you too, Jack Zimmermann.So much.”

And Jack embraces Bittle in a way that he has craved for the entire semester, fully and unrestrained.

“I’ll text you over break.We’ll talk about this.”

“I’m going to be so pissed when I wake up.You have no idea, Mister.” BIttle said, grinning into Jack’s hair. 

“We’re going to do this again, but not sniffling and sick.We’ll go on a real date and I will walk you to your door and kiss you goodnight, Bits.”

“You better.”Bits said, leaning down to kiss Jack again on the forehead.“I can’t wait.”


End file.
